


Thursdays Are The Worst

by fab_fan



Series: Time After Time [2]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Arguing, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/F, Idiots in Love, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: Goddess, the pumpkin spice.It was everywhere.Everywhere.If she never heard the words ‘pumpkin spice’ again...she would know she was dead because they still had people randomly ordering it no matter what time of year.It also was because, even with the Halloween paraphernalia dotting the windows and counter, and Byron totally outdid himself this year with the creepy skeleton chilling in the corner, there was Christmas music playing over the small speaker system.Christmas music.It was the worst time of the year.----Follow up to That No Good Very Bad Wednesday
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: Time After Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971718
Comments: 16
Kudos: 103





	Thursdays Are The Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Never planned to do a follow up to That No Good Very Bad Wednesday, yet here we are.

It may very well be the worst time of the year, and it was only a Thursday.

Goddess, her head hurt.

The headache had started forming the minute she woke up, the pillow empty and cold beside her, no indentation or leftover whiff of fresh earthy soil and crackling oxygen. Her landlord had been lurking about like a deranged low budget B grade serial killer from one of the slasher flicks she’d forced Byron to watch with her the other night.

Or he forced her to watch.

He was the one to barge in and commandeer the remote control with his cheerful caring smile and affable shrug.

Bastard.

She was still finding stray popcorn kernels from when his dramatic ass flipped the bowl over during a rather gruesome jump scare.

She loved the boy, but he really needed to tone it down. 

The fact they were three quarters of the way through her last bottle of moonshine in no way had anything to do with the bleary yelp they both made when the lights flickered because Raelle lived in an apartment building that hadn’t been updated with new wires since the dawn of time.

One of the only places a witch who wasn't an esteemed researcher at the Institute or a High Atlantic barking orders at the nearby fort could sign a lease at.

Or what a poor barista barely making anything and on the verge of dropping out of school and ending up like her mama as a combat medic in the military could afford.

Heaving a sigh, the short blonde fiddled with the boxes of stir straws and sugar packets, fake sugar because it was supposedly healthier to consume manmade chemicals manufactured in a plant than whatever mother nature created, and stacked them on top of each other before meandering over to the small counter that held the different options for people who chose to order a normal coffee and then add all the stuff the staff would add for them if they ordered something with a long unimaginative name off the menu. 

Setting the boxes down, she closed her eyes at the throbbing in her skull.

She was not getting a cold.

She didn’t have time to catch a cold.

Nope.

Her headache wasn’t because of that.

It was because there were Halloween decorations scattered throughout the small coffee shop, grinning pumpkins plastered to the walls and spooky bats that looked more like beady eyed rats with weird wings strung up above the cash register. Because, even though this was mainly a witches’ place, why celebrate Samhain when corporate civilian America might want to stop by for a pumpkin cookie and a pumpkin spice...anything?

Goddess, the pumpkin spice.

It was everywhere.

Everywhere.

If she never heard the words ‘pumpkin spice’ again...she would know she was dead because they still had people randomly ordering it no matter what time of year.

It also was because, even with the Halloween paraphernalia dotting the windows and counter, and Byron totally outdid himself this year with the creepy skeleton chilling in the corner, there was Christmas music playing over the small speaker system.

Christmas music.

It was the worst time of the year.

And, if Tally gave her one more long look and tried to subtly tell her she was being grumpy and needed to hug it out or whatever, she was going to throw Bob the Skeleton through the window.

She wasn’t grumpy.

She was fine.

It was just that time of year.

And a Thursday.

Opening up one of the boxes, Raelle dug her hand in and plucked out a fistful of pink packets. She dumped them in the container on the counter and repeated her actions, not even paying attention to the mindless movements.

Her head hurt.

If she allowed herself to think about it, it hurt almost as much as her heart.

She didn’t allow herself to think about it.

She didn’t want to think about it at all.

Didn’t dwell on the reason why she woke up to an empty bed in her less than stellar apartment.

Why she wasn’t in a different bed, curled up against a slumbering back, nose nestled in brunette hair, the slight wave floating through the soft locks like a gentle autumn breeze rustling the fallen leaves and caressing her face. 

Why her arms weren’t cradling the body that fit perfectly against her own, sleepily tugging her closer, pressing a lazy drawl of a kiss against the nape of a creamy neck, brushing against a shiny mark that sent a zing straight through her every time she saw it, touched it. 

Why she wasn’t opening her eyes to blue so deep and piercing she felt like she was drowning and flying at the same time.

Nope.

Not at all.

Not one thought.

Because, it didn’t matter. Nothing to think about. 

“Um...Raelle...I think that’s full.”

Raelle blinked at Glory’s hesitantly friendly voice. Glancing down, she noticed the container of pink colored sugar packets was now overflowing, spilling over onto the counter and mixing with the yellow and blue sugar packets.

Damn it.

Glory stepped up beside her, gentle smile on her face, “Want to take a break? The next rush shouldn’t be for a few minutes.”

No, she did not want to take a break.

Taking a break meant sitting in the back with nothing to do.

Because what she used to do wasn’t an option anymore.

“Go. Or I’ll tell Tally you skipped dinner with us that one time because you were too busy watching the lacrosse game on tv and not because you were helping your sick neighbor take care of her dog.”

Traitor.

Before Raelle could reply, Glory added, “Your neighbor doesn’t have a dog. Tally will check.”

Damn Tally and her love for adorable animals and need to pet them constantly.

Throwing her hands up in defeat, Raelle turned away from the counter, “Fine. I’ll be in the back.”

“Don’t mess with Treefine’s things. She’ll notice.” Glory called out.

What the hell was Treefine still even doing there?

Raelle waved her hand in acknowledgement, shuffling her feet toward the large counter and the door that led back to the staff area and storage spots. As she reached the small swinging door that led to the home of all things coffee machines and steamers, the faint sound of the door to the cafe opening and soft footsteps on the floor in need of a mopping because some dumbass spilled their pumpkin spice latte everywhere while trying to juggle multiple binders, their drink, and finish their makeup at the same time while eyeing the dude standing off to the side reading the menu, caught her ear. Peeking up, the employee stopped in her tracks.

She couldn’t help it. The entire world stopped turning and the ground fell out from beneath her boot clad feet.

It was a wonder she didn’t plummet to the center of the earth.

Which might have been preferable to standing there like an idiot, mouth agape, one foot hovering in the air until she lost her balance and stumbled. 

Scylla Ramshorn was still the most beautiful woman Raelle had ever seen.

Hair hanging loosely around her face, dark and inviting, begging for Raelle to run her fingers through, to twirl around her knuckles and slip behind an ear as her thumb crested along her cheekbone, quietly spellbound by how perfect she felt, the necro carefully walked into the cafe, eyes darting around to take in the empty tables and chairs before landing on the silent frozen woman.

She stuttered to a halt.

They both stood there.

Staring.

Licking her lips, Scylla snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, the pale pink flesh worried slightly as her eyes did that thing that let Raelle know she was thinking, feeling, had something on her mind and heart but wasn’t sure how to put it into words, if she was going to put it into words at all. Or, if she was going to leave Raelle hanging. Chase away her questions with a kiss. Make her forget whatever she was going to say, whatever she needed to hear, with a hot insistent tongue and a sweet tender mouth. 

No.

Not this time.

As Scylla opened her mouth, finally settling on the words to say, the sounds to utter, Raelle turned away from her and stormed through the swinging door, the wood smashing against the bottom part of the counter as she heedlessly ripped it out of the way. 

She was not doing this. 

Not today.

This was not a Thursday type of conversation.

It was a ‘no day’ type of conversation.

And, certainly not in the cafe with the pumpkin spice smell everywhere, permeating her clothes and following her like a cloud of doom. Not with cheery holiday music screaming at her that it was the most wonderful time of the year. Not with Bob the Skeleton staring at her from his perch, Byron’s voice popping in her head about fighting for someone you love and forgiving them if they did something unforgivable as long as they were worth it. As long as you loved them.

“Raelle.” Scylla spoke up, feet kicking into gear and body all but hurtling forward. 

Raelle shook her head, “I’m on break. Glory can help you.”

Customer service did not happen while she was technically off the clock.

Or her ex-girlfriend was running after her.

Scylla somehow covered the distance between the door and the counter before Raelle could make it to the back door, which was saying something since her legs were not longer than Raelle’s no matter what the other girl said about having an inch on her.

“Raelle, please.” Scylla grasped at the counter, eyes following Raelle as she tripped around the unorganized area.

Treefine was going to have a fit over that.

Good.

Raelle shook her head, “No.” 

The door to the back slammed open. 

Raelle pushed through.

Scylla was behind her within seconds.

Goddess damn it, how did she get so fast?

Raelle was the former athlete!

“Raelle,” Scylla watched her hands form into fists at her side.

“You’re not supposed to be back here. Staff only.” Raelle muttered heatedly. “Even I can read that.”

A dejected frustrated sigh, “Raelle,”

Raelle spun around, eyes blazing and chest aching, “No. No, Scylla.” She pursed her lips, trying to reign in the fury bubbling in her belly and the grief that stung her eyes, the way her heart actually physically hurt because she wanted to hold her and kiss her and pretend this never happened.

But, it had.

It had happened.

She couldn’t ignore it.

Not like she had for months. Ignored the way Scylla never told her anything of substance about herself. The way she would distract and deflect. The way Raelle wanted so much with her, did everything she could to let Scylla know, and that whatever she thought she wanted might not be what Scylla wanted. Not what Scylla ever wanted.

Swallowing past the boulder in her throat, Raelle ground out a bitter rasp, “I loved you.”

Scylla rocked back as if she had been hit. Her stance widened, like she was preparing for battle, “I love you. I still love you.”

Raelle exhaled heavily through her nose, muscles tightening in her shoulders, head hurting almost to the point of blindness.

“You listened to everything they said about me.” Scylla spoke, voice dropping low.

“You lied to me.” Raelle got out, shutting her mouth before she could let out a sob, before she could reveal how torn up she really was inside.

“No,” Scylla took a step forward, stopping when Raelle took one backward, “Raelle, no. I never lied to you. Not about us. Never about us.”

“You didn’t want me.” Raelle’s face flickered with the emotions barely being held back by grim determination and a sense of self preservation, because, if she gave in, she might lose herself completely, “Not really.”

“That’s not true. I’ve always wanted you.” Scylla countered. 

“You needed someone to help with your work.” Raelle sneered, “No one would work with you. You...you heard I could...that my mom was a fixer. You...you used me.”

“No!” Scylla stared at her, trying to convey everything through her eyes, her body, her voice, “I thought you were smart. You are smart, Raelle. You so easily picked apart that article the first time we talked. Of course I wanted to work with you. I _told you_ I wanted to work with you. But...I liked you before that. I liked you...loved you...beyond that.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Scylla shot back, “You think I woke up one day and decided the barista at the coffee shop was my ticket to getting my work published? That the girl who messed up making plain tea was how I was going to make breakthroughs when it came to Necromancy and undiscovered Work? That the only way to get you to do anything with me was to date you? Sleep with you? Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done what I asked even if I refused to kiss you. You haven’t been subtle at all about wanting me.”

Ok. Ouch. 

True.

But ouch.

Scylla took a breath, “I wanted you because you make me happy. You’re cute and charming and ridiculously attractive. Yes, no one else would work with me. Yes, you’re smart...smarter than you know...you don’t even know how powerful you are, Raelle. So, yes, I wanted you to help me. I wanted to work with you. You should be working here. Working for the Institute, not for the coffee place. I’m not sorry I used your help.”

Raelle felt like she was going to snap, spine little more than a taut string and Scylla holding the scissors, blades glistening. 

“I fell for you. Because you’re you. That’s it.” She huffed, “You’re the one who asked me out, Raelle.”

“What you’re working on is illegal, Scylla.”

Scylla’s mouth clicked shut.

There it was.

There was one of the biggest lies of all.

Raelle took a growling step forward, “You were doing something that witches are outlawed from working on. You knew it. And, you didn’t tell me. You lied to me. You...you’ve never told me anything. Everything you’ve ever told me is a lie.”

She agreed to help Scylla. Was excited to work with her. 

She had no idea what Scylla was really doing.

No idea until it was too late and the lab was being shut down with intimidating uniformed witches roughing up the blonde and asking her question after question about what she was trying to do. 

Threatening to make her disappear and easily brandishing a silencer and chains.

“If you believe that, then why are you here?” Scylla glared, gaze half broken in its hardness, “Why didn’t you turn me in?”

Raelle didn’t say anything.

What could she say?

That she still loved Scylla and couldn’t imagine giving her up to anyone, let alone the people who would more than likely toss her in a cell far away, never to be free again?

That she was hurt and angry, furious, betrayed. Her insides ached and it was hard to sleep. That she missed hearing her voice and feeling her hand in her own. That Scylla broke her heart, but she still loved her.

That she would have done anything for her.

She still probably would.

Yeah, no.

She was not admitting to that.

Not without that entire bottle of moonshine in her gut.

Her pop was seriously going to call her about how she polished his last alcoholic care package off so quickly.

Scylla’s eyes flashed, “You know what I’m working on is not wrong. And, you know why I’m working on it. You know more about me than anyone. Did I lie? Not about us. Not about how I feel about you. I lied when it was hard. When I thought you might get in trouble if I didn’t.” Her chin quivered, “I told you about my parents. I told you...I told you about me. I’ve been burned before, Raelle. But, I trusted you when you said you were with me no matter what. I trusted you when you said you’d be there for me. I trusted you because I love you.”

“Why did you pick me?”

Sure, no one wanted to work with her. Were wary of the necro. It was odd for other specializations to work with necros, anyways, them being the bastard children of the witch world.

But, there had to have been someone. Anyone.

Not a flunking coffee shop lowlife with no future.

Why would she say she wanted her?

Why would she want her?

If not because she needed help with something illegal and Raelle was too dumb to look too deep into what the research was about. 

Was too smitten to ask.

Was putty in her hands.

“Because you’re the only one I could pick. You’re the woman I love.” A tear formed in the corner of her begging blue eye, “Because you made that dumb joke about tea the first time we ever talked.” A fractured grin, “I wanted your help with my work because you’re powerful. Because you, out of anyone, could help me figure it out. Because you would understand how important it is. I chose you as my lover because I fell in love with you. I have never felt this way about anyone. We kissed and...you’re the only choice I could ever make. I choose you. I love you.”

Raelle wiped harshly at her face. Her lips trembled and her jaw shook. 

Her head was telling her this was a lie. Everything about Scylla Ramshorn was a lie. 

A sham.

A trick.

Her heart told her to kiss her hard and long and press her up against the door. Make her breath shatter and voice crack as fingers slid through slick heat.

The air was still. 

A frozen moment in time.

Nothing but their shared breaths mingling in the quiet.

Then.

“Raelle,” Scylla whispered.

The scissors cut through the string.

A quick slice.

Neat and sharp.

Raelle snapped forward, colliding with the older girl. They crashed back into the door, Scylla gasping as calloused palms gripped her face and a hungry demanding mouth captured her own, hot and wet and messy as hell but she could taste the salt of the tears that broke free and rolled down both their faces.

Raelle pushed against her, angling her head to deepen the kiss even more. She tangled one hand in Scylla’s hair, the other snaking between them, scratching the brunette’s belly and skimming along the waistband of her washed out jeans.

Scylla kissed her back, meeting each touch with the fire and fury that exploded inside of her, ignited between them. Her hands shivered at her sides before they dove into golden braids, her hips bucking as deft fingers traced a path underneath her shirt. 

A loud knock at the door reverberated like a bomb.

“Uh...Raelle.” Glory called through the door. “The rush is here, and I am super happy you two are back together, but it’s only us two working right now, and Sgt. Anacostia just walked in looking like she might murder someone if she has to wait behind ten other people.”

Raelle muttered a curse, forehead coming to rest against Scylla’s shoulder. Scylla caressed the back of her head, kissing her temple.

“Also, you owe me for skipping dinner and not inviting me to movie night with Byron.” Glory tacked on, “Hi, Scylla. I need your girlfriend to hate-make a bunch of pumpkin spice lattes.”

“I’m coming.” Raelle grumbled. Movie night with Byron wasn’t even her decision.

“Maybe tonight.” Scylla cheekily whispered, causing Raelle’s hands to tighten, before raising her voice, “She’ll be there in a second.”

“Thanks, guys.” Glory paused, “Also, we’re out of lids.”

Raelle rolled her eyes, “I’ll get a box.”

“Thanks!”

Raelle grumpily pulled away, hands not letting go of Scylla’s hips, “I have to get lids.”

“Better get to it. Don’t want to leave the masses waiting for their hate-made lattes.”

“I don’t hate them.”

“You really do.” Scylla pecked her lips, “Go. I’ll see you later? After your shift? We can talk?” She tried to sound confident, but there was no hiding the earnestness, “I can explain.”

Explain why her research was shut down.

What she was doing.

How much she truly wanted Raelle.

Raelle nodded, “Yeah. Ok.”

“Ok.”

Neither moved.

Raelle found herself drifting forward into another kiss.

“Raelle!” Glory’s strangled voice shouted.

“Damn it,” Raelle guided Scylla away from the door and opened it. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Their hands slid together, a tangle of fingers, both squeezing.

They would talk in a few hours.

Raelle would get her answers.

Scylla would get her chance to say what she wanted to.

Words that had hovered around them since the moment they were both released from custody, Raelle scurrying off to not face the woman who had broken her heart, darting away from the overwhelming situation. To not have to face any of it. Scylla had to deal with the fallout, fighting to not be permanently removed from the Institute. Angry and disappointed and so incredibly upset because her work shouldn’t be illegal, was only seen so because it was misunderstood, because Alder and the military refused to acknowledge what was right in front of their eyes and civilians were terrified of things they couldn't understand, things they couldn't do themselves. 

They would finally say what both had been letting live on the tips of their tongues for far too long.

Opening her mouth as if to say one more word, the sound of a perturbed Anacostia Quartermaine had Raelle closing it and giving one last look before she walked out into the fray.

She walked back thirty seconds later to Scylla’s raised eyebrow, the hand covering her mouth failing to hide the amused smirk.

Raelle hopped past her and picked up a box, a few sleeves of plastic white lids toppling over in her haste.

Damn lids.

* * *

A few hours later, hunched over in the table farthest away from the hustle and bustle, Scylla felt something slide next to her elbow from where she was reading a newspaper left behind by another customer, the air shifting as someone plopped down into the seat across from her. She looked up to see a disheveled Raelle blowing a few strands of hair away from her face, Glory puttering around with a broom back by the cash register.

A lemon scone and mug of steaming English Breakfast sat just past the edge of the table.

Brow shaking slightly before knitting together, Scylla let her eyes travel back to the woman now slouched across from her.

Raelle offered her a tiny grin.

“So...why did you seduce me into helping you break the law in one of the top research facilities in the world?” 

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when someone yells at you repeatedly to write something. Don't blame me. Well, you can blame me for the quality and overall errors, but you can't blame me for this being written.
> 
> Like it? Hate it? Meh? Let me know!


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